Disclaimer: I do not own Jay "Christian" Reso or anything that pertains to World Wrestling Entertainment. I am not profiting from writing this piece.

In my black silk robe, I curled up on my sofa and attempted to wind down, but that was like attempting to sleep during a heavy metal concert. Today had been the worst day of my life—the worst Thanksgiving of my life. Jay had been nothing but a sweet, perfect little gentleman the entire time we were at the beach. On the way back to my house, he even sat in the backseat with me and allowed me to put my head in his lap so that I could try to take a nap—well, pretend to take a nap. How could I get any sleep with an adulteress and her lover in the front seats?

Being so kind and not making any wise-cracks was out of character for Jay. I was hoping he would say something or do something to upset me. I wanted to get angry at him, so I could avoid him for a little while. If I could avoid him, I could get my emotions under control. Right now, every time I looked at Jay all I wanted to do was shout that his wife was a bottom-feeding, low-life, cankerous whore. That wouldn't bode well. Oh, what a cross to bear. If I told Jay, he would be devastated. If I didn't tell him, and he found out on his own, he would be devastated. What was I supposed to do?

I needed a drink, but I no longer consumed alcohol. I figured my liver had taken enough abuse in college. So I settled for a giant bag of barbequed potato chips and a two-liter bottle of coca-cola. I'll admit that this wasn't my finest hour but I wasn't out to impress anyone, so what did it matter? Maybe, if I was lucky, I would eat myself into an early grave.

I flipped on my television. And who was gracing my screen with his presence? John Stamos. It was a re-run of Full House. I snarled and rolled my eyes.

"Jackass," I mumbled and changed the channel.

I stopped on this past week's re-run of Extreme Championship Wrestling. Jay was making his entrance to the ring. Watching this was going to be a form of Chinese torture, but I didn't care. I reached for the box of tissues on my coffee table, just in case I burst into tears.

Jay's entrance theme seemed to be serenading me.

"…And you'll find me there. You'll see if you just close your eyes."

I closed mine.

That's how I would cope with this. I would close my eyes and envision the life that I wanted. A life that was more realistic and less like a World Wrestling Entertainment storyline.

I cried out, startled by a loud knock at my front door.

I debated on not answering it. The last thing I wanted to deal with was some serial rapist pretending that his car had stalled in an effort to get into my house and sexual assault me on my kitchen floor. Okay, so the odds of something like that actually occurring in Odessa were slim to none, but with my luck, it was possible.

The knocks grew louder; and then I heard the voice.

"AJ, it's me."

"Jay?"

I turned my television off, slowly stood up, and made sure that my robe was tightly closed. I wandered out of the living-room and to the door.

Jay was standing on my front porch, drenched with rain water. He looked as though he had just watched his Chihuahua being punted across a football field. He sighed when he saw me.

"Hey…"

"Hey…"

"I didn't wake you up did I?"

"No."

Jay was silent for a second and shuffled uncomfortably.

"Uh…May I come in?"

"Of course, of course," I said, stepping aside to let him in. "Go into the kitchen, though. You'll get water all over my carpet."

He nodded, stepped inside, and then slipped off his shoes and placed them by the door. He stared at me a moment. I saw the sadness flash across his eyes. Oh no.

"Jay, what's—"

He cut me off.

"I kicked myself out of the house."

I blinked, surprised.

"Why? What happened?"

Jay sighed.

"Let's just say Josh was the topic of discussion…If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not talk about it right now."

I pursed my lips and nodded.

"Well, come on, we need to get you out of those wet clothes before you catch pneumonia."

Jay followed me into the kitchen. I flipped on the light. When I turned around, I went faced-first into Jay's wet chest.

"Oh," I leapt back a little bit.

I looked up at Jay.

His expression was cold, vacant. He was just the shell of the Jay I knew.

"Strip," I squeaked, looking down at his wet dress shirt.

"What?" He looked at me, surprised.

"Strip," I repeated. I could feel my face turning red. "I can't put your clothes in the dryer with you in them, so strip."

"Oh…Right."

Without giving me much notice, he started unbuttoning his shirt in front of me. I felt awkward standing there, gawking as he undressed. So I turned around.

"I'm…uh," I stammered. Despite that I wasn't facing him; I could feel him staring at me. "Let me go get you a towel."

"Thanks."

Without looking at him, I ducked out of the room and quickly bound up the stairs to the bathroom.

When I returned, he was standing in just his briefs in the middle of my kitchen.

"Do you want me to put this in the dryer and get it warm for you?" I asked as I held out a yellow folded towel.

"No," he forced a smile. "Thank you anyway."

I traded the towel for his wet clothes.

"Have a seat," I said, gesturing to the bar. "I'll go put these in the dryer and I'll be right back."

He nodded.

I was momentarily mesmerized as I watched Jay patting himself dry. I quickly snapped out of it and darted down the hallway, toward my laundry room. I quickly threw his clothes in the dryer and rushed back into the kitchen. I wanted to make sure he hadn't attempted to hang himself from my pots and pans rack.

Jay looked so pitiful sitting at my bar. He had his head in his hands, sighing periodically.

"Can I get you anything else?" I asked, cautiously crossing the room.

Jay turned to me and stared for a moment.

"You wouldn't happen to have any tequila, would you?"

I frowned.

"No…I'm sorry."

"Milk will do then."

"All right…No problem."

I went to the refrigerator, pulled out my gallon of milk, and then reached into the sink for two clean drinking glasses. My robe slid up a little bit. I gasped, knowing that Jay got a pretty good shot of my lace underwear.

"Whoa…draft," I said, reaching behind myself.

Jay chuckled.

"Well, it was a nice draft. What is that…Victoria's Secret?"

"Yeah," I laughed.

"I thought so…It was in last month's issue."

"Why does it not surprise me that you're a subscriber?"

Jay chuckled again.

I poured milk into the two glasses, put the milk jug back into the refrigerator, and then handed Jay his glass. I took a seat on the bar stool next to him.

We drank our milk in complete silence.

"Can I ask you for another favor?" Jay asked in a soft voice.

"Sure."

"I'm going to need a place to stay…just for tonight. I have an early flight in the morning, so I won't have to stay long. I just…" He trailed off.

"Hey," I held up my hand and gave him a comforting smile. "You don't even have to ask and you can stay as long as you want, Jay. You know that."

"Thanks." He gave me a smile in return. "Where would I be without you?"

I shrugged nonchalantly, causing my robe to slip off my shoulder.

"Probably sitting under a microscopic lamp looking for portraits of famous people in your snot rockets, but that's just an educated guess."

Jay laughed tensely, eyeing my bare shoulder.

I froze; his fingers grazed my skin as he pulled my robe back over my shoulder. I stared at him a moment and then gulped.

"It was about you, too," he said suddenly. "The argument, I mean. It was about you...for the first half-hour anyway."

"Why? What did I do?" I looked away from his gaze.

"Nothing," he replied. "I just told Heather that I didn't think she should have allowed Josh get away with what he said to you…I mean, I know I wasn't exactly your knight and shining armor, but don't think I wouldn't have knocked him flat. I just didn't want to do it in front of Chris's kids…I told Heather if she was any kind of friend to you, she would have told that asshole where to step off."

Screw friendship. I could care less about my relationship with her at this point.

"I really, really hate that guy." He growled. "He's such a snot-nosed kid."

Speaking of kids…

"I don't even know why she'd want him in her life and around our family. He's like a plague or something plague-like...He's pretty much anything that causes death and destruction."

"Jay…" My voice hitched.

I knew I would regret this.

"There's something I need to tell you, but I'm not sure how I should because I'm not even sure if I should be the one telling you it. I just have a feeling you're not going to hear from anyone else; and I can't stand the thought of you being hurt any more than you already are…God, now I'm just dragging this out, aren't I?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I couldn't tell him this while I was looking at him.

"Earlier this afternoon, at the beach, when I went to see if Heather would give me a ride home, I saw her at the Sedan with Josh. They didn't know I was there, but I overheard them talking and—"

My eyes shot open as I felt Jay put his finger to my lips.

"I know, AJ," he said grimly. "I know the baby isn't mine. She's almost two months apparently…If it were mine, she would have told me long before now…That was the other reason we fought…I told her there was no point in hiding it from me, because I would have figured it out eventually."

I was utterly confused. How could he be so eerily calm about this situation?

"So, I take it you know that it's Josh's?"

Jay pursed his lips and nodded.

"I told you I thought they were too close," he sighed. "Tonight…When Heather told me that she thought she was in love with him, do you have any idea how that felt? It was like…It was like…I was fly that had just collided, head-on, with the windshield of life; and the last thing that went through my mind was my ass—my stupid, stupid ass, man! God, you probably think I'm pathetic, huh?"

"No…I don't think you're pathetic at all. She had me snowed, too."

He ignored me and continued ranting.

"There were signs. I know there were signs, but I just didn't see them. I should have seen them, but I didn't. Maybe if I had been home more, like she said, I would have noticed, and she wouldn't have run into the arms of some twenty-four-year-old hippy with a promise."

"Jay…" I sighed, running my fingers through his wet locks. "None of this is your fault. Heather knew full-well what she was getting into when she married you. If she suddenly can't handle the alone time, that's her problem."

Jay looked at me out of the corner of his eye. He reached up and grabbed my hand. He gave it a hard squeeze. His jaw clenched tightly and then his other fist slammed against the granite countertop.

I yelped, startled.

"She pissed me off so bad that I couldn't even look at her." He shouted for no apparent reason. "All I kept doing was picturing her with him—kissing him, touching him, whispering to him the sweet little nothings that she used whisper to me."

I didn't move. I couldn't move. My hand was still pinned tightly against the top of his head.

He pounded the countertop with his fist again.

Growling in frustration, he bowed his head. Both of his hands latched firmly around mine; and he rested his elbows on top of the bar.

"I had my flaws. I'll admit I was a bit of a horndog," he yelled once more, "but I was a good husband, dammit! I was a good husband!"

"I know you were." I squeaked and shuffled uncomfortably as his grip on my hand tightened. I knew he would never hurt me, but I would be lying if I said that I wasn't a wee bit frightened by his behavior.

He peered at me through the triangular space created by his bent arm and his bicep. His eyes were dark, a deep shade of forest green. Then, for a split-second, the dark shroud that was haunting his once friendly face seemed to disappear. My Jay snuck to the surface. He gave me a remorseful look and turned me loose, but not before kissing the palm of my hand.

I slowly pulled my hand back and wiggled my fingers. Nothing was broken.

"Sorry." Jay said, looking at my hand as I rested it on the countertop.

I politely rebuffed his unnecessary apology with a shrug.

"Do you feel better?"

He smiled slightly.

"A little bit, yeah."

"Good."

I don't know why but I kissed his temple. Jay and I had been the most affectionate we had ever been today. After the evening he had had, I assumed that he was looking for all the love he could get. He had come to that right place.

We were silent again. I could tell that he was simmering down. Stress still creased his brow, but he was slowly starting to look like himself.

"Well…" He sighed, throwing his arm around my shoulders. "I'm about one Backstreet Boys song away from having a good cry. So before I totally make an ass of myself, let's change the subject. Tell me about you."

"What about me?" I laughed lightly, turning to look at him.

Jay was silent for a moment as he pretended to dwell on his question.

"Hmmm…Knocked boots with anyone lately?"

"Jay!" I shrilled, laughing as I shoved him away from me.

He gave me an innocent look. "What?"

"What kind of a question is that?"

"A good one," he answered with a laugh. "I've had an extremely upsetting evening, so it would be nice to know that one of us is getting lucky."

Jay's eyes traveled up my legs, to my robe. He flashed me a boyish smirk.

"Judging by the unexpected peep show, I'd say you have been a busy little thing at some point. No woman wears underwear like unless she intends for some guy to see it."

I blushed and pushed him playfully.

"Didn't you hear me earlier today?" I asked. 'I'm not married, engaged, or otherwise.' I thought that implied that I wasn't dating anyone?"

Jay chuckled, shaking his head as he downed the last of his milk.

"What?"

"AJ, AJ, AJ." He made a tisk-tisk sound and sighed. "Have you learned nothing from me? You don't have to be dating someone in order to get a piece of ass. One-night stands are marvelous little encounters that satisfy one's sexual needs without establishing any kind of commitment. You're thirty-five. You should know this by now."

I rolled my eyes.

"Call me old-fashion for wanting a commitment before I toss my goodies at the next putz I see. I'm getting a little too old to be doing that teenager song and dance."

"Maybe so," Jay shrugged, "but don't you dare think that I believe all that malarkey you were feeding Stamos today. I bet you my next paycheck that you have those stool pigeons at your office salivating over you."

I avoided eye contact for a moment and then smiled.

"I don't date anyone from work. That proves to be problematic in the end."

"But you have dated?"

I scrunched my brow at him and giggled.

"Yes, I have."

Jay smiled, leaning back a little bit.

"So, have you met someone that I can intimidate yet?"

"No," I laughed, which was followed by a sigh. "I mean, there was this one guy that I was seeing regularly, but…"

"But what?"

I shrugged. "I don't know…He just couldn't measure up."

"He couldn't measure up to what?"

"You..."

The conversation had been flowing so casually that I hadn't even realized that I was thinking aloud.

"Excuse me?" Jay laughed nervously.

I looked at him befuddled and completely oblivious.

"What?"

"You just said he couldn't measure up to…to me."

My eyes widened. I gasped and clamped my hands over my mouth, as if that would somehow retract what had come out of it.

As quickly as the tension in the air had disappeared, it reappeared with a vengeance. This time it seemed to be thicker than before.

While I was muttering some explanation that he couldn't hear, Jay just stared blankly at me.

Then it happened…he smiled. He reached over and slowly pried my hands away from my mouth. He gently folded them and placed them in my lap.

I stared at him, panic-stricken.

"You know," he began, speaking in a soothing tone, "you really shouldn't compare me to other guys. One, I'm a horrible example to follow. Two, that kind of analytical behavior will only lead you to settling for second-best some time down the road. You don't want that, believe me."

"I-I don't understand?" I stuttered incoherently.

Jay was silent for a minute or two. He drummed his fingers on the countertop.

"Evil brings men together."

"Huh?"

I practically admitted to being in love with him and all he could do was spout random proverbs. What the hell?

"I swore up, down, and sideways that Plato coined that phrase," he laughed, recalling some distant memory. "I spent twenty minutes arguing with my study group over the matter. Then the raven-haired, hazel-eyed vixen that always sat next to me during class, finally turned to me, and said, 'That was Aristotle, you dumbshit. Now shut the hell up so we can go over the rest of the material.'"

Jay laughed again at the thought.

"I gotta admit I was hooked right then. How can a man not love a girl that's not afraid to put him in his place? Anyway, a few days after that, we went out for coffee. I said it was to discuss classwork, but really I just wanted to see her again…To tell you the truth, I hate coffee, but any time she wanted to go, I went… Man, she was something else…We had a pretty good thing going, this girl and me. We went to parties and had a blast, but I always chickened out. Eight years later, I ended up marrying her best friend and now here I am…This is what happens when you settle for second-best."

I was breathless for moment. Was he saying what Chris said he would never say? I looked at him, searching his expression for some kind of reassurance.

"Yes," he nodded. "I'm a closet hopeless romantic, too."

I blinked. My mouth was moving, but no words were following.

Jay groaned.

"Awesome! I've made everything awkward between us. Way to go, Jay!"

I shook my head and closed my eyes. I took a deep breath.

"Why?" I asked. My voice trembled slightly, "Why didn't you come to me with this before now?"

Jay shrugged in response.

"I guess I thought you were way out of my league."

"Me?" I made some sort of sound. It was a something in between nervous laughter and a hysterical sob. "You thought that I was out of you're league? You were the one that was going to become this huge professional wrestling star, jet-set around the world, and make millions. If anything, you were out of my league."

Jay diverted his eyes from mine for a moment; and then he let out a hard laugh.

"Dude, to be as close as we are, we've got some shitty communication skills."

I couldn't help laughing myself.

"I'll say."

"We may want to work on that."

I eyed him anxiously. My heart rate promptly sped up.

"Oh, and what do you propose?"

"Well…" Jay licked his lips. He leaned over and lifted my chin to meet his mouth. The kiss was soft and brief…too brief. He pulled back and stared at me. I suppose he was testing the waters, seeing if the feelings were still there.

I licked my lips, as if to savor the taste. I had waited seventeen years for that moment, so I wanted it implanted into my memory bank.

Jay smiled and placed another peck across my lips, and then another and another…until his animalistic instincts took over. He kissed me deeply, recklessly. His arm slipped around my waist and he pulled me to the edge of my bar stool. I grunted as I fell against him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

After what felt like an eternity in Heaven, Jay broke the kiss, practically gasping for breath. He pressed his forehead against mine. His lips were parted and pressed lovingly to mine. They were moving in unison with our erratic breathing patterns. Once enough air hit his lungs, Jay crushed his lips again with more fervor than the last time.

We both moaned.

Jay's fingers slid gracefully down the side of my face and to the edge of my robe. His hand slipped beneath it. I figured if I gave him an inch…he would try to grope me like a pubescent schoolboy. However, he didn't. With his right arm still securely around my waist, he used his left hand to caress my backside. He started at the base of my neck and moved down my spine. That's when something snagged my bra clasp…Jay's wedding ring.

The reality of the situation hit. I stiffened and tried to pry myself away from Jay. He so embroiled in our accumulating passion that he was unaware that I was starting to resist. I did the only thing I could think of. I slid off the stool and forcefully pushed him away. I must have pushed him a little too hard, because he lost his balance and plummeted to the floor. The bar stool toppled over onto him.

"What the hell, AJ?" He shrieked, looking up at me with a shocked and bewildered expression across his face.

"Sorry. Sorry," I uttered as I backed away from him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

"This," I replied, gesturing to myself and then to him. "Us…What are we doing? This isn't right. This isn't right at all."

Jay put the stool back into an upright position and scrambled to his feet. The lighting in the room seemed to accentuate his muscular body. Almost in slow motion, he hesitantly advanced forward.

I froze in place.

"What are you talking about, babe? It was feeling pretty damn right from where I was sitting."

"Yes, it felt right," I agreed, while at the same time shaking my head, "but feeling right and being right are two different things, Jay."

As he started getting closer to me, I took a couple more steps back. If he got close enough for me to feel the heat radiating off his body, I would have no self-control. I would want to do things, inappropriate things—things that would make an adult-film star uncomfortable.

Jay stopped when he noticed that I was somewhat retreating. So he respectfully kept his distance. He cocked his head to the side.

"AJ, babe, you're making about as much sense as Richard Simmons tipping strippers in titty bar," he said with a teasing laugh.

"Jay," I groaned. "Don't joke. I'm trying to be serious…Whether you want to admit it or not, you're very vulnerable right now. I'm not about to take advantage of that; and despite that your marriage is indeed crumbling, you're still a married man."

My eyes fell to his wedding ring. He followed my gaze and frowned.

"Right," he sighed heavily.

He let out a loud groaned as he looked at me.

"I guess there's only one thing to do."

I closed my robe and tied it tightly around my waist.

"What's that?" I asked, looking up at him.

Jay slipped his wedding band off his finger, examined it for a second, and then slung it across the room. It ricocheted off the corner of the wall and landed somewhere in the hallway.

"There," he grinned in satisfaction. "No more married man. Free at last, free at last! Thank my wife's lying, cheating ass! I'm free at last!"

I threw back my head and laughed.

"I wish it were that simple, Dr. Reso," I smiled as I slowly started inching toward him. "Even though the ring is gone, there's still legal documentation."

Jay huffed in response.

"Picky…picky…Seventeen years worth of repressed sexual tension, and you're going to let one minor detail hold us back another day?"

"Jay," I frowned, standing a few feet from him. My arms were folded across my chest.

"I'm kidding," he chuckled. He put his hands around my waist and pulled me closer to him. "You're right. I need to get my other stuff in order before I open this can of worms."

"Oh, so I'm a can of worms now?"

He rolled his eyes and smirked. "You know what I mean."

I sighed and wrapped my arms around Jay's midsection. I was waiting to hear my alarm clock sound. I was waiting to be ripped away from this fantastical dream, but I wasn't. I could hear the fast rhythm of Jay's heart and I could feel his gentle touch as he stroked my hair…I was wide awake.

"Hey, AJ?" he murmured.

"Hmm-hmm…"

"With a strict look-touch-but-go-no-further policy in place, would getting better acquainted with your pals from Victoria's Secret still be considered cheating?"

I giggled and seductively stepped away from him. I placed one of the ends of my robe's waist tie into his right hand. I pulled back, so that the robe loosened a little.

Jay swallowed hard.

"Oh," I flashed him a wicked grin, "I think that's feasible, very feasible."

Jay, like a dog on a leash, followed me out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the bedroom.